“Polly. It’s me. I’ve been shot, tracked, and drone-handled. Are you busy?”
“I’m reviewing a new eatery in Canaan called ‘Just Desserts.’ It’s run by the local prison. I’ve heard it’s more profitable than making license plates. Is everything OK?”
“Except for the drone-handling by Cerberus I…yes.”
“Oh dear,” said Polly. “Are you sure you aren’t an alien?”
“Never have been, nor ever will be. All I can figure is the drone mistook me for somebody else…the Can man…ever here of him?”
“A dear old chap. Yes, I remember him. Malachi and I nearly ran over him once or twice…certainly no more than three times…and definitely not more than four.”
“Well Cerberus just shocked the Can man into the next world. The drone must have assumed he was a looter when he was found walking about the Plaza. You do know there was a Call for all Goshenites to drop everything and go to the Hives this morning?”
Polly assumed a pensive look that most people make before ordering something in French with hopes it is not a member of the mollusk family or has or use to have tentacles. It was a beast of a time, it was two at the time, and she said nothing but stare at her soles.
A wave of intuition hit Polly.
“Cerberus likes your shoes. All dogs do…even mechanical flying hounds programmed with algorithms by evil men and the Differentia.”
* (ed. Note) The Differentia was a class of scientists in the city-state of Goshen formerly known as Nerds